


your eyes are cooler than my beating heart

by xxpaynoxx



Series: aventures à paris [3]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Nostalgia, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 20:58:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13151916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxpaynoxx/pseuds/xxpaynoxx
Summary: He knows what it’s going to be, it’s going to be Leo sitting in front of a camera telling the world how much the team misses him.Neymar remembers, and misses.





	your eyes are cooler than my beating heart

The birds in France are far too loud at eight in the morning for Neymar’s taste.

In Brazil, it was gunshots. In Barcelona, it was morning traffic. In Paris, it’s fucking _birds._

Neymar rolls over with a groan, muscles aching from training the other day as he picks up his phone, scrolling through the thousands of notifications from Instagram and Twitter. Finally, his eyes settle on a headline that peaks his interest, and then a message from Dani Alves on Whatsapp just above it.

 

**7:51am**

_Amigo, have you seen that video that Leo made?_

 

No, he hadn’t, seeing as he just woke up, but Neymar’s bleary vision steadily cleared on the headline _‘We’re Still Missing You’_.

His heart clenches in his chest instantly, and he feels nauseous in his stomach. Tears prick at his eyes and he hasn’t even opened the video yet. He knows what it’s going to be, it’s going to be Leo sitting in front of a camera telling the world how much the team misses him. It’s going to be some sentimental script bullshit pulled out of Bartomeu’s ass, to combat the Madrid rumors (which were ridiculous, tabloids were really falling for anything at this point to keep him in the news).

But that’s the exact opposite of what he finds. 

It’s Leo, sure, but there’s no makeup or sound teams behind him. It’s just Leo, sitting in one of the boxes in Camp Nou, in his training top and shorts. It’s not the Leo made up for the cameras at the Ballon D’ors or when he goes out to present awards and be in the public eye. No, this is raw and real and Neymar can practically smell Leo’s cologne through the screen as he watches the video.

It’s short, only two minutes or so, but it feels like a lifetime as he watches Leo’s lips move, forming words like “the truth is” and “still missing you” and “take care of yourself”, and Neymar feels hot tears falling down his face as the screen goes dark in front of him. The video had ended minutes beforehand, but it takes him forever to lock his phone and break down completely, Leo’s blindingly green eyes boring into his own as if he was sitting right here in Paris with him. 

The birds are still chirping, but their singing is softer. It’s almost like they’ve quieted in front of Neymar’s window, detecting the feeling of nostalgia and the sound of the twenty-five-year old quietly sobbing into his hands drifting out of the apartment’s window. The sky is bright, and the sun’s rays steadily stray into his room, landing on a photo book tucked deep inside of the bookcase placed strategically in the far corner of the room.

He picks the book up, blowing off the dust (somehow this thing has collected dust despite it being less than six months old) and settling down on the black futon in front of his balcony, cracking open the book.

It opens to a picture from the Club World Cup in 2012, where Neymar himself had been young and wild with a dyed fohawk and tape on his wrists and fingers. Leo’s face was inches from his own, and looking at it brings back memories of their first time; of Neymar’s chest pressed against white bathroom tile, Leo’s beautiful pink lips pressed to his neck, whispering dirty things into his ear, making Neymar see white.

Then there’s a bunch of photos of them from games. Leo’s head tucked underneath Neymar’s armpit. Neymar’s legs wrapped around Leo’s torso, fist raised in triumph. Leo and he standing right next to each other, giggling at each other like high school girls. Leo’s pale hands entwined with his own tan ones, Neymar’s cheeky smile hidden behind his warm headband.

The Champions League pictures start appearing, Neymar’s bare back facing the camera and Leo’s face practically pressed into his neck as if he wanted to make a home there, mouth stretched wide in a smile of pride. He remembers that night well; Leo made his legs shake for hours, wanted to show him how much he loved him and how much he was proud of him. Neymar woke up the next morning, sore and covered in marks, feeling like the luckiest boy in the world.

After that, the pictures begin to dwindle. There’s awards ceremonies, there’s celebrations, and then suddenly, the headline appears. _Two hundred and twenty-two million euros_ glares at him like an eyesore, with the black and white picture of Neymar terribly Photoshopped into a Paris jersey placed just beneath it. It burns his eyes, and he quickly flips the page.

It’s blank.

Neymar’s hands are shaking as he closes the book, remembering those last few weeks at Barcelona. He remembers Piqué screaming at him in the locker room, calling him a traitor and  _how could you_ and  _it was supposed to be you and Leo forever_ as if he was trying to guilt trip him. He remembers Leo's hands on his skin, remembers him telling him it's okay and how he won't ever let this transfer get between them.

And yet, here he is, having been left without so much as a few congratulatory texts between he and Leo to fill that yearning hole in his heart. It’s been weeks, _months_ since he’s felt Leo’s lips on his own, felt his small and pale hands on his body, heard his groans late at night when it’s just the two of them. It’s been too long wihtout anything of that sort between them, and Neymar’s chest begins to feel tight as he looks out the window, the curtains rustling through the chilly December wind, craving and thinking.

_Does he still miss me?_

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally gonna be a Christmas thing, but it's also 10:53pm and Christmas is basically over BUT i might make the next installment be on NYE. thoughts?


End file.
